


Good Parenting

by magneticdice



Series: Gallavich Week [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 00:49:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magneticdice/pseuds/magneticdice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian and Mickey have different ways of parenting: Ian is nurturing, whereas Mickey will do anything to protect his son-but together, they make it work. Part 2 of my Gallavich Week series, for the "jack daniels and orange juice" theme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Parenting

Gallavich Week Part 2

**Good Parenting**

Svetlana left as soon as she got her green card. She didn't bother taking the baby with her. Terry got so pissed that he went on a bender and got himself locked up, yet again. Mickey and Mandy were left to raise Dimitri on their own. The Russian only came back a few times over the course of the next two years for her INS interviews. Mandy saw her a few times when she walked past the spa; apparently the whore got her old job back.

Dimitri had been a good baby. He slept through the night right from the start. Mandy really took on the brunt of looking after the boy. There was no question as to whether or not Mickey really was the father—Dimitri had the same jet black hair, pale skin and bright blue eyes as Mickey did.

Mickey kept his job at the Kash and Grab while he studied for the GED. As soon as he passed, he quit his job at the store and went to mechanics' school. He found himself a job at a garage, apprenticing for the owner. As soon as Mickey had a steady income, Mandy went to college. She met a boy and fell in love, and they moved to Detroit to be closer to his family. 

Mickey and Dimitri made due. Mickey hired a nanny to watch his son while he was at work during the day. When Dimitri turned three, Mickey enrolled him in Nursery. The nanny picked him up and watched him until dinnertime, when Mickey got home.

Ian came back to the South Side after four years of being in the army. He hadn't kept in touch with anyone—not even his own siblings. He stopped by the Milkovich house to pay Mandy a visit. He knocked on the door and  Mickey answered it. After the initial shock of seeing each other had worn off, Mickey explained that Mandy had moved to Detroit. He invited Ian in for a drink. The redhead reluctantly accepted. They caught up—a lot had happened in the last four years. Mickey introduced the redhead to his son. Ian and Dimitri became friends instantly. Ian stayed over that night, and the night after that. In fact, he never left.

About two and a half years later, Dimitri started first grade. One afternoon, about two weeks into the school year, Ian picked him up from the bus stop at the corner of the street to walk him home, as was their routine. Dimitri was in tears, all scratched up and bleeding. At Ian's glare, the bus driver shrugged and said he was only responsible for driving the kids to and from school, not making sure they stayed safe in-between. Ian hugged a crying Dimitri and carried him home. He sat him down on the edge of the bath tub and took out the first aid kit. He cleaned off all of Dimitri's cuts and let the boy cry it out. When no more tears fell, Ian walked with Dimitri to the couch and they watched his favorite cartoons together. Ian didn't push the boy to tell him what had happened—he knew from experience with his own siblings that Dimitri would talk when he was ready.

Dimitri leaned his head against Ian's shoulder. “Aaron said that if I didn't give him half of my snack, he was going to take the whole thing from me. I didn't let him, and he hit me in my stomach.” The boy lifted his shirt and showed Ian the purple bruise forming on his little belly. “Then at recess he pushed me into the bush and it scratched me and everyone was laughing. It really hurt...” he said, rubbing at one of the scratches on his cheek.

Ian hugged Dimitri tight and told him that the scratches would go away in no time because he'd put a magic cream on them. (It was just some Neosporin, but Dimitri always loved the idea of magic, so that had lifted his spirits.) “When's daddy coming home?” he asked Ian. 

Ian looked at the clock and saw that time had passed a lot quicker than he'd realized. “He'll be here in half an hour. Do you want to go play in your room until dinner?” Dimitri nodded and ran to Mandy's old room, dragging his backpack on the floor behind him. Ian smiled and started cooking Dimitri's favorite dinner: macaroni and cheese.

Mickey got home at the usual time. He didn't bother saying hello to anyone—just walked straight into the bathroom and got into the shower. Mickey always _reeked_ when he got back from work. The smells of oil and dirty engines were absolutely unbearable to everyone around him. When he came back out to the kitchen, Ian and Dimitri were setting up the dinner table. 

“Daddy!” Dimitri shouted as he ran into Mickey's arms and gave him a tight hug. 

Mickey lifted his son up into the air, still hugging him. “Hey there, little man. How was school?” Mickey saw Ian gesture wildly from the kitchen, but he had no idea what Gallagher was trying to say.

Dimitri was quiet and softly muttered that school was okay. It wasn't until Mickey put his son down onto the floor that he noticed the cuts. “What the FUCK happened?!” he shouted.

Ian winced. He'd hoped Mickey would remain calm, but that clearly wasn't going to happen. Ian walked over and knelt down next to Dimitri, telling him to go back into his room for a few more minutes while the grown-ups talked. Dimitri knew it wasn't the time to argue because when his daddy used bad words, things were serious. He nodded to Ian and went back to his room.

Ian waited until the door closed before turning back to Mickey. “A boy in school tried to take his snack and then hit him in his stomach.”

“And the fucking cuts all over his face and arms?”

“The same kid pushed him into a bush during recess and he got cut.”

Mickey was furious. “Which kid?!” Mickey was already walking to the door and putting his boots on.

“Mick, calm down. I'm not gonna tell you which kid!”

“Why the fuck not? I'm gonna go kick his fucking ass. Nobody touches my son and gets away with it.”

“Because you can't just go and beat up a six year old, Mickey!” Ian put his hands on Mickey's shoulders, grounding him. “Calm down. Let's just relax for a minute. Please?”

Mickey huffed. He knew Gallagher was right—he couldn't go attack a kid. He looked up and Ian's eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay...” He sighed. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

Ian kept his hands on Mickey's shoulders, but eased up a bit on the force he was using to hold his partner. “Well, what we need to do is call the school and tell the principal about what happened. They'll probably set up a meeting with us and the kid's parents. They'll ask both boys to tell their sides of the story, and see where it goes from there. Fiona went to tons of those meeting for Carl, except she was on the opposite side. Mickey reluctantly laughed. They both knew that Carl had been a terrible child... “Now, let's have dinner. I made mac 'n' cheese to cheer Dimitri up. Try not to draw attention to his cuts, okay? He's really sad about them.”

Mickey nodded. They called Dimitri to the table and they all ate dinner together. It was something that was important to Ian. The Gallaghers always ate their meals together, as a family, and Ian had insisted on keeping that tradition when he'd moved into the Milkovich house.

“Can we watch more cartoons now?” Dimitri had asked, hope in his eyes.

“Nah kid, not tonight,” Mickey had told him. “Tonight, we're gonna do something even more fun.”

“What's more fun than cartoons?” Dimitri had asked, doubtful.

“Daddy's gonna teach you how to fight,” Mickey explained. “That way, if the mean kids in class try to hurt you again, you know what to do.”

Mickey looked over at Ian, and saw the big grin plastered on the redhead's face. Ian may have taken care of Dimitri's cuts and made sure the kid was emotionally taken care of, but there was no way Mickey was going to let it happen again. He'd make sure his son grew up knowing how to defend himself, and not take shit from anyone.

“Okay, we'll all go outside and learn how to fight, as soon as the dishes are put away,” Ian said.


End file.
